


The one where Bucky adopts Clint

by applecider15



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf, Deaf Character, M/M, Slow Burn, Whump, clint barton - Freeform, clint barton is lonely, coffee shop AU, has a coffee addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applecider15/pseuds/applecider15
Summary: Clint is tired and lonely, but won't admit it. Nat being the best friend ever, takes things into her own hands and introduces him Bucky, Steve best friend who also is lonely and tired but won't admit it.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not beta read, and probably never will be. It you do spot any typos, please do point them out, because my eyes are tired, and iI did my best. I will mention any triggers in the notes before the chapters, please do take note of them, and I will let you know where they begin and end.   
> Anyway, love you all stay hydrated! And enjoy, if you don't enjoy then you can go read something else, if you do then please leave kudos and comments! Xxx

It was a bright and cloudy day outside, a chilly breeze swept through the paved streets, but inside the coffee shop it was snug and warm, and most importantly, it had coffee. Clint still couldn't decide whether it smelt more of chocolate or coffee, but anyhow, it was delicious and you didn't see him complaining. 

Some sort of classical music that Natasha was always listening to tinkled faintly in the background and the sound of the coffee machine grinding the beans was like music to Clint's ears. The shop was empty at the moment, it had been a treasured slow few hours, with no more than two or three customers throughout the shift, and Nat and Clint had not done much but gossip, people watch, and sip of steaming cups of heaven (aka coffee).

Until they were interrupted by a high tinkle of the door bell. Clint looked up suddenly and subconsciously corrected his slouched posture as two men walked into the cafe.

The taller off the two, looked like some sort of Greek god, all muscle, and fair hair and their eyes a blue Clint's could only aspire to; Steve. "Hey Steve," Nat said looking smug.

Clint examined the second person, one he had never met before or seen. Although he was the shorter of the two. (Which in itself was not uncommon, Steve was massive, in fact at times even Clint had forgotten that he was actually taller than the guy, because Steve was not only massive physically, but also in presence. Steve was six feet of glorious muscle, Clint could not say the same, he was six feet of arms and legs and there was a difference.) 

But this man was definitely more handsome, Clint thought, in a rugged sort of hippie-ish way. Again with that jaw line! Clint made a mental note to ask Natasha where she met these people.

This was quiet, and was luckily too occupied examining his surroundings that he didn't notice Clint staring at him for longer than was strictly necessary. Steve interrupted Clint's thoughts as he cleared his throat. "Um, guys, this is my friend Bucky," He said grinning widely as if he had won some sort of prize.

So this was the infamous 'Bucky'. Although Clint had thought that he was dead, he had probably misheard, or remembered it wrong, his memory was terrible. Bucky gave a half hearted acknowledgement of existence and didn't bother to return the grin that Clint sent his way.

"Hello Clint, sorry we haven't met up in a while. I've been pretty busy," Steve said and held out a hand. Always so nice.

Clint stood up from the table and shook it hand. "It's cool, I've been pretty busy anyway as well," Busy doing what exactly? He asked himself. Busy watching Dog Cops? Or busy accidentally becoming land lord to the building he lived in? He passed Natasha a look; Why did you not warn me that Steve and his good-looking best friend were going to visit today? Betrayal, that's what this was.

Natasha ignored him and sipped her cappuccino satisfactorily. "Can I get you boys anything to drink?" She asked Steve and Bucky.

"Yeah sure," Steve replied. "I'll have coffee, and so will Buck,"

Natasha stood up. "What kind of coffee?"

Steve looked over at the menu board and he dug out his wallet, something akin to puzzlement adorning his perfect face.

Clint stirred a spoon through his coffee one last time before draining it in one long gulp, as his eyes wondered over the lip of his cup, he suddenly met Bucky's eyes. The man passed him a bemused expression that Clint had not been expecting, so he promptly spluttered and choked on his coffee. Reluctantly he put his cup down and coughed several times, his cheeks warming, and the situation made worse by Bucky's teasing expression.

Once he had regained his breath and dignity (Not that he had much left of that), he went to open his mouth to retort some witty reply, but Bucky had already looked away, and was now watching Natasha and Steve's interaction studiously.

Clint grumbled quietly. It was bad enough that he was wearing a t-shirt that he had not washed in days, but he had completely humiliated himself in front of Steve's hot best friend. Draining his coffee, this time without choking on it, he stood up and went to refill his cup.

Natasha was leaning against the linoleum counters, hip cocked as she worked the coffee machine and chatted to Steve. "Hey Nat, can you refill my cup?" Clint asked, once there was a break in the conversation and gestured to his empty cup.

Nat turned to him and took one look at him and the cup before turning away. "That's your third cup today, I'm not making you a fourth," she said stubbornly.

But two could play that game. "Okay, no problem. I can do it,"

Natasha only rolled her eyes before continuing her conversation with Steve. "What about the woman from the bar last Saturday?"

"The one with the blue hair?" Steve clarified.

Natasha smiled but kept her eyes on the coffee machine. "Yeah her, she seemed nice,"

Steve laughed and then shook his head. "No,"

"Was it the hair?"

Clint just stood there waiting for Natasha to finish and drummed his fingers on the counter leisurely. Nat steered the conversation to Bucky with ease. "What about you Bucky? The girl with the blue hair from last Saturday?"

Bucky looked at her with surprise before gathering himself together and replying smoothly. "I'm not looking for anybody at the moment, I'm focusing on other things,"

Natasha just hummed as is she was not expecting anything else, and passed subtle looked to Clint before bringing the steaming cups of coffee to a small table where and Steve and Bucky and her sat down. That's when it all clicked into place. Clint sighed, and glared at the back of her foxy head.

He was not lonely, he had been trying to tell her that for months now, but she wouldn't hear of it. He was perfectly fine with Nat, Lucky and.... himself. He had his tenants to take care of now, and the tracksuit mafia. Kate was gone at the moment, on some sort of trip to Europe with her girlfriend America. But he was busy, and content. He was fine. He didn't need anyone else in his life.

He brought his up to the coffee machine taking extra care to slam down the cup with the finesse of a two-year-old having a tantrum because they wanted the green one, not the yellow one and after he had made his coffee he planted himself down gracefully on a chair next to Natasha.

He sipped his coffee gently, hissing because it was too hot, and then taking another sip and hissing again. "Hey, so...do you like coffee?" He asked Bucky and gestured to the untouched cup that lay in front of Bucky. 

Bucky looked at him suddenly and followed his gaze to the cup. "Oh um-"

"Don't worry, Nat won't take it personally," Clint said.

"No it's just,- I usually take mine...differently, but it's fine," Bucky stammered, and then took a sip of his coffee trying to prove that it was fine. But he badly covered up his grimace. 

"I can make you another one? Or I could grab some milk and sugar, it won't make a huge difference but...?" Clint offered.

Bucky debated for a minute before finally answering. "If you could grab some milk and sugar, that would be great but it's okay if you don't have-"

"Nah, it's fine," Clint said and stood up, and returned a few moments later with an excessive number of packets of sugar and a small jug of milk.

He watched in awe as Bucky methodically poured six of the paper tubes of sugar and the majority of the jug of milk into his cup, until its contents were a mini-centimetre from overflowing down the sides. Bucky sipped it then, quietly, and somehow managed to not spill a drop as he brought the cup to his mouth with one gloved hand. "So how did you meet Natasha?" Clint asked as he slurped his own coffee.

"We met in Russia," Bucky replied.

Clint considered this information "Were you a part of that Russian gang too?"

Bucky shrugged and stared at his coffee forlornly. "Kind of, it's a long story," He looked up then. "How did you meet Natasha?"

Clint thought back to when Natasha and him first met and decided that it probably was not a good story to tell someone you have just met. First impressions and all. "It's a long story," he said.

Bucky chuckled. "Alright,"

"So how do you know Steve?"

"We met in fourth grade, he was tiny back then. You wouldn't believe it now, but..." Bucky shrugged and gestured to Steve hulking mass beside him. "I had just watched him start a fight with a guy a least twice his size, he was completely stupid, still is. I went to help him out anyway, and we kind of just stuck with each other since then, y'know?"

"No," Clint laughed and shook his head. "But, not much has changed since then,"

Bucky smiled. "No, the amount of scraps I have to pull him out of," he laughed, his eyes crinkling.

"Pull who out of what?" Steve suddenly interjected and stared at Bucky as he laughed.

Clint grinned. "Just this guy Bucky used to know, always gets himself into fights with people twice his size,"

"Yeah, and he jumps out of planes without a parachute. Would you believe it?" Bucky supplied, still smiling.

Steve finally seemed to catch on. "That was only once," He defended himself.

"And what about that time in Marseilles?"

Steve went a funny shade of red. "Buck-that was...-I didn't"

"What happened?" Clint asked loudly, mirth in his eyes.

Bucky glanced at Steve once more. "Well, there was..."

"Fine, fine," Steve said defeatedly. "I'll admit, jumping out of planes without a parachute isn't one of my best ideas," Bucky smiled, satisfied.

All of a sudden, Natasha grinned devilishly. "You should hear about the stunts that Clint pulls, I don't actually know how he's still alive," She smiled at him. "Actually I do, there's this wonderful woman who keeps on saving his life,"

Clint rolled his eyes and hid behind his cup of coffee. "Yeah, but I don't jump out of planes without parachutes,"

"No," Natasha agreed. "You jump off buildings instead."

Damn, Clint should have seen that one coming. Bucky and Steve stared at Clint incredulously.

"You could have died," Steve argued, now wearing his Captain America disappointed face.

"I didn't though," said Clint.

"But you could have,"

"I haven't yet though,"

"Why?" Bucky asked.

"To get a good shot, or if the building is about to blow up, or if someone is trying to kill, which isn't as uncommon as I would like, there are plenty of good reasons," Clint defended himself.

Bucky looked disgruntled. "What do you do in your spare time?"

"Oh no, it's my job, I get paid,"

Bucky stared at him. "I though you were human? Like that you weren't-"

"No, I am...Human I mean," Clint finished his coffee. "One hundred percent human, unfortunately,"

"If that's your job then why do you work here?" Bucky finally asked.

"Nat wanted me to talk to more people,"

"So you got a job at a coffee shop?"

"Yup,"


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! Hope you're all well! Stay Hydrated! Xx And please point point out any typos you see! Xxx

"Shit, shit, shit," Clint swore, this was not good, so not good. 

He ran as quick a he could with a bullet embedded in his leg. He was fortunate at least that the tracksuit mafia - as he was calling them now - had a terrible aim and that no bullet had hit any more vital places, like his chest, or face, or head, or heart, or-you get the idea. As he turned another corner he winced as he heard harried footsteps behind him. 

Everything really went to shit though when he saw the looming grey wall before him and realised it was a dead end. "Triple shit,"

He turned around and took in his surroundings. There was a metal railing and staircase attached to the side of the building on his right, but it was too high. If only he could- He spotted a dustbin directly underneath the railing and with one glance at the figures that suddenly appeared at the entrance to the cul de sac he made his decision. 

With the grace of an acrobat he leaped on top of the lip of the dustbin and sprung up arms outstretched. He caught the underside of the railing and shining himself back and forth for momentum he swung up onto the fire escape. 

He ran along the platform to a barred metal door and hammered on it ferociously . A bullet hit the brick wall mere centimetres from his face. Taking a few steps back he ran into the door with his shoulder and all of his might, trying to get it to open. The rusted metal gave an ominous creak, and another shower of bullets rained down upon the wall. He wasn't so lucky this time, one grazed his side and another his ear. He brought a hand to his ear, it came away bloody. 

He stepped back and ran against the door again, this time when he collided with the door, his shoulder was aching and bruised, but it slammed open and he almost fell through the doorway gratefully. 

He limped through the banal corridor inside the building until he came to a staircase and immediately set on trekking upstairs. Up and up he went, around and round in spirals, his side throbbing painfully, his ear felt hot, and his leg was on fire. To put it very simply everything hurt. He was going to feel this tomorrow. 

Once the staircase came to an abrupt end, and an unflattering door lay in front of him, he stopped and took a deep breath and stepped outside. 

Outside it was cloudy, this high up the wind tore at him aggressively, and messed with his hearing aids, and the cold nipped at his fingers and nose. He stepped forward and walked to the edge of the building, examining the distance between this building and the next, it was only a few meters. He concluded that he could probably make the distance. 

Stepping back to acquire momentum he momentarily admired the city skyline from here, and then, heart thumping, he ran. He leaped from the edge, for a moment he flew through the air, before landing with a crash on the other rooftop. 

His wounded leg gave away beneath him, and he fell face first onto the ground. As he sat up, head spinning, he spat out a mouthful of gravel and blood, and groaned. Ignoring his body's pleading to not move, he stood up and limped pathetically to the edge of the building, where he looked down onto the street below him. 

Small cars bobbed back and forth in bright dashes of colour and noise, and small people milled around, and he couldn't see the tracksuit mafia anywhere. That was good, very good. Hopefully they had given up and gone somewhere else to terrorise some other people. Sighing Clint rubbed a hand over his face. Damn, he was tired. Really. Really. Tired. He couldn't wait to get back to Lucky. 

He stood his time getting his breath back, and winced when he put too much weight on his bad leg. Then, turning around he looked for the door that would take him inside the building and then safely down onto ground level. 

There was no such door. He sighed bitterly and rolled his eyes, or course things wouldn't be made easy for him, nothing ever was. Pacing the perimeter of the building he looked for any way to get down, on the left there was a fire escape about two meters down. There was nothing else. 

He grimaced distastefully, it was a rickety old thing, crippled with rust and chipping away bolts, and he could only hope that it would hold his weight. 

He decided he was going to order pizza after this, a well deserved pizza, and coffee, lots and lots of coffee. Coffee. 

He jumped, and tried to make a safe landing, doing everything that the acrobats at the circus had taught him. But it was no use. The fire escape couldn't take his weight and came off its hinges, taking him with it and falling, falling, falling. 

The last thing he remembered was hitting something hard and a sharp shot of pain before everything went black. 

\---

Bucky sighed and looked out the window. It was raining outside, fat big drops spluttering out form the clouds above in bucket loads. 

The house was quiet and empty at the moment, Steve had gone out to visit Tony and probably wouldn't be back until much later. Not that he was complying, it was nice to breathe without Steve watching his every move. It was nice to be able to breathe without someone having expectations of every word that you were going to say, and it was nice to not watch as Steve's face turned crestfallen when he said something the 'old Bucky' wouldn't have said. 

It was nice.

But now that he was alone, all these thoughts bubbled to the surface, threatening to push their way out, thoughts that he was sure he was not meant to be thinking. He tried to best to push them from his mind, replacing them with things that were safe to think about. 

Like, it had been a week now since he had met Natalia's -no Natasha's friend Clint. 

He did not know what to think of Clint. The man was tall and all limbs in a way that Steve was not, he was different to Steve like that. Clint was different to Steve because Steve did not drink four cups of coffee a day, and he never wore Hello Kitty plasters on the bridge of his nose, and Steve never asked Bucky how he liked his coffee, because he already knew that 'Old Bucky' like it black, and this new Bucky, whoever he was, most certainly did not like black coffee.

And Bucky knew it was unfair to compare Steve to Clint, but it was nice to talk to someone who was not-Steve. 

And that was why he found himself pulling on a hoodie from his bedroom and stepping outside the front door for the first time since the trip to the coffee shop where he met Clint a week ago. 

It was raining outside, he had forgotten that. But he remembered the route to the coffee shop, so he just pulled up the hood of his hoodie and headed in the right direction. He didn't know why he was going there, he knew that in all likely hood Clint probably wouldn't even be working there today. But he wanted to go anyway, just to see. 

Five minutes later, as he opened the shop door, he realised that he had forgotten his gloves at Steve's house. He froze for a moment, but he didn't want to go back and get it now, so he stepped inside. 

The shop was empty apart from a woman sitting at a table in the corner typing away furiously on a laptop, and Clint hunched over the counter, holding a cup of coffee and looking as though he might fall over asleep at any moment. 

Clint looked over as Bucky walked in, and seemed surprised for a second, but then smiled. 

As Bucky walked closer he realised with a shock that Clint's face was mottled with blue and purple bruises. Several more of those Hello Kitty plasters adorned his smiling face. "You look like shit," Bucky stated. 

"Always a pleasure to see you Bucky," 

Bucky ignored that "What happened to you?" He asked. 

Clint shrugged as if he was not quiet too sure what either. "Just some guys who weren't too pleased with me, jealousy, it's a surprising motivator," 

Bucky frowned. "What did you jump off another building?" He joked, he had not meant it seriously, but his smile fell when he saw Clint's face. 

"Seriously?" 

"Well, not really. I didn't do it on purpose, and there wasn't any other way to get down," Clint protested. 

Bucky stared at him in awe. "How did you get up in the first place then?" 

"So Bucky, you want any coffee? Or did you just come here to see my lovely face?" Clint said trying to change the subject. 

Bucky let him have this one. "Yeah I'll have some coffee, anything is fine," 

Clint seemed grateful and quickly busied himself with reaching for a cup. "You don't like it too strong do you? Last time-"

"I don't mind, whatever's fine," 

Clint hummed and worked the machine to life with ease, but Bucky did not miss the wince he made when he moved his shoulder to pull a lever. Clint was wearing a different t-shirt to the last day, this one was purple (Again), and had a purple and white striped arrow target plastered across it. The t-shirt had a small hole in the shoulder, and a small patch of purple bruised skin was showing though. 

Bucky wondered just how much of Clint looked like that. 

Steve and him did not really bruise anymore, and if they did, the bruises disappeared quickly. But Bucky still remembered the bruises that Steve had always had back then, blooming handprints of yellow, purple and blue. Bucky could also remember the way Steve would wince whenever Bucky put on the ointment Steve's Ma had made. 

Bucky wondered Clint had anybody to put ointment on him. Natasha maybe? He thought. But she didn't seem that kind of person. 

Now as Bucky examined Clint as he moved about making Bucky's coffee, Bucky noticed Clint's slight limp. He was favouring his left leg, and his shoulder seemed sore, everything Clint moved it, his eyebrows would crease and his mouth tighten. 

"What happened to your leg?" Bucky couldn't stop himself from asking. 

Clint seemed surprised for a moment. "Bullet wound, but was only shallow, it's fine now," He replied. "Don't tell Nat," 

"Just...she gets annoyed when I get in trouble," 

"And I wonder why," 

"Haha," Clint rolled his eyes. "I'm fine anyway," He said as he slid Bucky a large mug of coffee. 

Reaching into his pocket for his wallet, and passing the money to Clint, Bucky realised only too late that he had used his prothetic arm. He waited for Clint to stare, or make some rude remark, but all Clint said was; "Cool arm," 

Bucky grunted and slid his hand back inside his pocket. He grasped his coffee with his other hand and sipped it gently.

When he glanced at Clint over the top of the cup he found Clint staring at him eagerly with big eyes, waiting for something. "It's good," Bucky said truthfully. 

Clint beamed at him, his stormy grey-blue eyes crinkling. 

"It's really good," He repeated. "How d'you know I'd like it like..."

Clint shrugged modestly, but he seemed pleased. "Just had a hunch," 

Bucky laughed and looked another drink, relishing in the hot liquid pooling down in his stomach. Clint sipped his own coffee, and Bucky remembered what Natasha had said the week before about Clint drinking coffee, and Bucky wondered how many cups had Clint drunk today? And how many was healthy?

Bucky finished his coffee far too quickly, and it was only when he had drained the last remains suds from his cup that he realised he no longer had an excuse to stay. Reluctantly he put his cup down and said goodbye. 

"Don't you go jumping off anymore buildings!" 

"Technically I didn't jump, I fell!" 

Bucky resisted the urge to wrap the guy in bubblewrap. "Well, don't jump or fall off anymore buildings!" 

It was still raining when he got back outside, and when he got back home it was still too quiet. Not having anything better to do he pulled out Steve's laptop and opened google. 

'How many cups of coffee is healthy to drink in one day?'

He typed. 

He deleted the computer history later when Steve came back.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii! This chapter is eXtra long, for ye guys! Just Clint being clumsy and amazing as always Xxx   
> Please point out any typos you see! And stay hydrated

"Hey Steve, d'you want anything from the store?" 

Steve looked up. "No, why?"

"I'm going to get some milk," Bucky said as he pulled on his coat.

Steve looked at him eagerly. "I can come if you want?"

"No, I'm okay," Bucky insisted, Steve looked crestfallen for a moment before he quickly covered it with a smile.

"Alright, have fun!"

Bucky grabbed his scarf from the coat hanger and wrapped it around himself.

It was cold outside, there was a chilly wind and frost creeped up along the window panes and burrowed throughout many layers of clothing. Outside everybody was wrapped up warm, apart from a few random people dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Bucky stopped to stare at them. Were they okay?

He burrowed his face into the blue scarf to keep his face warm and made his way to the store. Inside the store it was considerably warmer, heat gusted out of the doors in huge billows. But over by the fridge section, where they had the milk, it was cold again.

He was glad when he found the shelf that held the milk without any immediate difficulty, but he was confused when he saw all of the different types of milk. What was all of this stuff? He tried to look for a carton that just said 'Milk'. But without any success.

"HEY! BUCKY!" A voice came suddenly from behind him.

He turned around startled and abruptly came face to face with Clint Barton standing right behind him bundled up in an obnoxiously coloured fluffy jumper, his cheeks and nose were dusted red with the cold, and there were no sign of the Hello-Kitty plasters. His bruises were nearly gone.

"Clint," Bucky said.

"Didn't expect to see you here!" Clint went on cheerfully, and Bucky noticed he was carrying a small cardboard box in one hand. "I was just looking for some orange juice, and these special types of screws, Simone's bookshelf broke, and as the landlord. Well! I gotta help out, y'know?"

Clint smiled widely. "Hey! You aren't any good with wood and screws and that sort of thing are you?"

Not wanting to ruin Clint's happy mood, Bucky replied. "I suppose I can try to help out?"

It was more a question than an answer, but it didn't seem to phase Clint.

"Brilliant! So what are you here for Buck?"

Bucky stared back at the milk. "Um, I was looking for some milk, but..."

He was somewhat relived when Clint just pulled out one of the cartons of milk from the shelf and passed it to Bucky. Bucky did not take in a word of what Clint was saying, he just nodded as they made their way to the till.

Once they had both paid for their stuff, they headed to Clint's apartment, which was apparently not that far away. At some point the one-sided conversation lapsed into silence and Bucky took the opportunity to ask Clint a question.

"Why are you so happy?"

Clint laughed at that and made a gesture to the small cardboard box that he was carrying. They stopped walking for a moment, and curiously Bucky lifted up the lid of the box and peeked inside. Inside was a small ball of white fluff.

He looked up at Clint. "What is it?"

"A cat, I bought her just now, she's cute isn't she? I haven't decided what to name her yet, but..." Clint shrugged. "Only problem is, I can't keep her, Lucky's already enough of a hassle," Clint's smile dulled slightly.

"Why did you buy a cat if you can't keep it?" Bucky asked, puzzled at the logic.

"She looked sad, I was thinking that Natasha might like her?" Clint looked up at him for a moment, and Bucky tried to imagine Natasha caring for a small white cat.

"Or? What about you? You'd like a cat wouldn't you, Bucky?"

Bucky was taken aback for a second. "Uh, I wouldn't know how to take care of one,"

"It's easy, especially with cats, I'll show you how!" Clint smiled, and Bucky stared down at the precious ball of fluff in the box. A small 'mew' came from the cat.

Bucky couldn't say no.

"Alright,"

"Awesome!" Clint beamed at him, and put an arm around Bucky's shoulder drawing them closer together.

Bucky was surprised by the sudden contact, and felt himself go stiff and tense, and he glanced up at Clint beside him. But Clint did not seem to notice. After they had walked another few blocks Bucky decided that he actually quite liked this, and was thoroughly disappointed when they arrived at Clint's apartment, and Clint had to move his arm to get his apartment keys.

They both stepped into the apartment together, Clint headed into the kitchen muttering to himself and Bucky looked around the place with wide eyes.

He had not been too sure what the apartment was going to look like. But this? This was a lot. Just standing there he felt slightly overwhelmed.

As he moved into the kitchen, Bucky saw that the rest of the apartment looked the same, and there was only one way to describe it. Chaos. Absolute Chaos.

"Oh, yeah, sorry it's kind of messy, I didn't realise I was going to have anyone over, usually it's just me and Natasha," Clint said.

"It's fine," Bucky said putting his stuff down on the ground. "Not a big fan of tidying up? Huh?"

Clint just rolled his eyes. "Not my fault, stuff just happens,"

"Right," Bucky said, eyeing the piles of to-be-washed-dishes.

He got a fright though when Clint suddenly thrust the cardboard box into his hands. "You can probably let her out for a minute, she'll want to stretch her legs," said Clint.

Cautiously, as if holding a bomb about to explode at any second, Bucky put the box down on the kitchen table and opened it. The cat looked up at him with large eyes, and it was at that moment the Bucky knew that he was doomed.

The cat mewed softly and Bucky looked up at Clint. "Do I just?"

"Yep, just pick her up, and put her on the ground," Clint nodded reassuringly and smiled.

Bucky picked the cat up gently and almost mewed himself when he felt how soft the fur was. Once the cat was on the ground it stretched, its claws scraped the wooden floorboards. Bucky watched as the cat meowed, and pricking up its ears paced the ground, looking curiously around.

"Lucky is with Simone," Clint explained. "I asked her to mind him for the evening once I found out I was going to bring home such an adorable ball of cuteness," Clint cooed gently and crouching down he stroked the cat.

"Who is Lucky?" Bucky asked,

"Oh! Lucky is my dog, I forgot you haven't met him yet!" Bucky had not known that Clint had a dog.

Once Clint and Bucky had got the cat settled and given it some food (They used Clint's dog food, Clint said that the cat wouldn't mind) and water, they both headed downstairs to Simone's apartment.

Bucky was holding the bag of screws that Clint had bought, and Clint was holding a cloth bag full of things that clanged and crashed against each other loudly whenever the bag was jostled. "My tool box," Clint explained.

Simone's apartment was also messy, although not to the extent of Clint's, but it was still chaotic and cluttered with small children running around the small space screaming.  
Bucky shifted anxiously, he had never been that comfortable around kids since...H.Y.D.R.A.

Children always seemed so happy and innocent, and Bucky was none of those things.

"Oh, Clint! Who's you friend?" Simone asked raising a neatly manicured eyebrow.

"Hi Simone, this is my friend Bucky, he said he'd help out, and Buck, this is Simone," Clint introduced them.

"Thank you Bucky for helping out, it's lovely to meet you, I would fix it myself, but I just don't have the time, I've got to rush off now, there's a call I need to make," Simone smiled widely and then left.

"C'mon, Bucky," Clint beckoned, and Bucky followed him into a living room where two children lay sprawled over a red couch watching some sort of cartoon, and a golden coloured dog lay on the floor sleeping.

At the sight of Clint, the two children and the dog sprung up and rushed over to them. Bucky stepped back wary. Clint crouched down and petted the dog, ruffling its ears, while the dog barked and licked him.

"This is Lucky!" Clint said, glancing up at him, his eyes bright, and Bucky suddenly noticed that the dog had only one eye.

Not quite sure what to do Bucky hesitantly leaned down and put a hand on the dog's head and stroked it. Clint smiled and looked up at the children.

"Hey kids, what's up?"

"We're watching Voltron!" The smaller one exclaimed. "And guess what just happened?!"

"What?" Clint chuckled, still petting the dog that now lay half on top of him.

"You have to guess," the taller child insisted stubbornly.

"Umm," Clint thought for a second "Did Keith get kidnapped by Golra?"

"NO!" They both shouted appalled.

"Then what happened?"

"Well, Keith and Shiro, and Allura, and Lance-" 

The smaller child chimed in "AND Pidge!"

"Yeah and Pidge, and all of them, they all defeated Zarkon!"

"Wow!" Clint said amazed, his eyes wide. Bucky couldn't tell whether he was pretending to be amazed or whether he was being genuine.

"Well, you'd better not miss any of it then," The children nodded eagerly, and following Clint's advice, relocated back onto the couch.

" They're adorable, aren't they?" Clint turned to Bucky his eyes shining.

"Uh, yeah?" Bucky said hesitantly.

Clint stood up, and Bucky followed him and the dog over to a pile of wood on the floor beside the TV. Clint flopped down onto the floor, and Bucky followed suit, but with a little more grace.

When Clint did not say anything, Bucky spoke first staring at the pile of wood. "So we need to make this into a shelf?"

"Yup," Clint nodded staring at it too, and looking slightly out of his depth. "I mean, it was a shelf before, and then it..." Clint shrugged and pointed to the wood.

Bucky just nodded.

"So we should?"

"Yeah, probably,"

"Okay,"

"Okay,"

They both nodded

\----------------------------------------

Two hours later they had finished fixing the shelf. Clint nor, Bucky had ever said that shelf fixing was either of their strong points, arrows and guns maybe, but not DIY, and Bucky couldn't help but feel pretty proud of himself once they were finished.

He didn't know how Clint felt, but judging from his flushed cheeks and shy smiles, he wasn't too far off from proud.

They both packed up the 'tool box', and left over screws, and after finally accepting some chocolate biscuits from Simone, as a 'thank you' they both trekked the few meters to Clint's apartment.

Clint had said that he would come back down for Lucky later.

Once they stepped back into Clint's apartment, Clint spoke. "So, um...Thanks, for helping out,"

"No problem," Bucky said earnestly.

"And it was great fun too, right?" Clint smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, I liked it, it was good fun," Bucky nodded.

They were both suddenly interrupted by a loud ringing noise. Clint looked around confused and Bucky checked his pocket for his phone. It was not there.

"It's not mine," Clint said.

"Yeah, I know, it's my phone, although I don't know where...?"

"It's here!" Clint lunged for the kitchen table, but noticed the cat's cardboard box on the floor in front of him just a fraction too late, and jumped away to avoid it. But his legs got tangled up one of the dining table chairs and he crashed face first into the table.

Bucky rushed over to him. "Jesus, are you okay?"

Clint stood up slowly, and held out Bucky's phone in his hand. Bucky took it and put it back down on the table. "Clint? Are you okay?"

"Yeah...yeah...I'm...I'm okay..."

Bucky's phone stopped ringing, but he ignored it. When Clint finally turned to face him, Bucky winced. Clint winced as well and ducked his head shyly, and brought his hands up to cup his nose, now streaming with blood.  
"Sorry, Shit, Sorry," Clint apologised.

Bucky was taken aback. "Sorry, what are you sorry for?" He laid a hand on Clint's shoulder, concerned.

"I tripped up, and made a mess, I almost killed the cat, and you missed your phone call," Clint pulled away from him. "It's okay, I'll get myself cleaned up, and you can call back whoever that was,"

Bucky watched as Clint loped over to the kitchen sink and reached for a roll of tissue paper. Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes. "Clint," he said.

Clint turned to face him abruptly, there was a swelling bruise on his head, blood was dripping more freely from his nose now, and his stormy blue eyes suddenly seemed much dimmer than before.

Bucky stood over to him. "Hop up onto the counter would you?" Bucky asked.

Clint looked confused. "I'm sorry what?"

"Hop up onto the counter," Bucky repeated.

Clint stood there for a moment uncertain, he stared at Bucky calculatedly. "Why?"

"So I can help you,"

"I don't need-"

"Just do it," Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes.

Clint watched him silently, and then seemed to make up his mind, and hopped up onto the counter gracefully. "So now what Doc?" Clint joked, and Bucky pretended not to notice him swallow nervously.

Bucky passed him a wad of tissue for his nose. "Your lip is spilt too," Bucky said.

Clint laughed and held the tissue to his bloody nose, and Bucky quickly replaced it with another one. As he glanced up at the red bump on Clint's head that was beginning to swell, he muttered to himself. "You're a disaster," And pressed some tissue to the blood welling on Clint's lip.

Clint's eyes darted to him nervously as he forced a laugh. "You sound just like Natasha,"

"Does Natasha normally see you like this?" Clint didn't answer.

Once Clint's blood nose had begun to lessen slightly Bucky pressed a hand to the lump on Clint's head. "Your head sore?"

"No," Clint said sarcastically.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Concussion?"

"No," Clint replied. "Don't believe me?"

Bucky just watched as Clint went off reciting the date, and month and year, and day.  
"Happy now?" Clint asked.

"When did you get Lucky?"

"What?" Clint looked at him.

"When did you get Lucky?"

"I stole him from the mafia,"

"Are you sure you don't have a concussion?" Bucky frowned.

"No, seriously, there were some douche bags who owned him, they were kicking him and shit, and then Lucky saved my life, took a bullet for me, and I adopted him," Clint nodded earnestly.

"Right...Okay so no concussion,"

Clint laughed.

As Bucky's eyes roamed Clint's face for any more bruises or swelling, he suddenly realised the position that they were both in. Clint's leg's on either side of him, and their faces only inches apart. Bucky quickly moved his hand away from Clint's shoulder. He had not even realised that he had put it there.

He helped Clint down from the counter slowly. "You'll be alright?"

"Yes Bucky, I'll be fine," Clint rolled his eyes, "God, I didn't know that you were such a mother hen,"

Bucky ignored that and reached for his phone on the table, and opened it up. "Jesus! Forty-seven missed calls, and thirty-four messages!" Bucky tried not to flinch as Clint's voice came from over his shoulder. 

"He is a bit over the top isn't he?"

Bucky just sighed. "Yes. I'd better go Clint, I'll see you around,"

"Yes definitely! Actually...Look-Let me give you my number...in case you need help with the cat, you can always call me then," Clint said snatching Bucky's phone from his hand and punching in his number.

"Thanks Clint," Bucky said as he scooped up the cat box from the floor and recollected his phone.

"See you Bucky!"

Bucky called Steve.

"Bucky!!" Steve's voice came from the phone.

"Yes Steve, Hello? Did you want anything from the store? I assumed by your missed calls," Bucky began, and as he spoke he remembered the milk he had bought a few hours ago, and picked up it from the floor, and then made his way out of Clint's apartment.

"Bucky! You've been gone for three hours! Where are you?"

"I stopped at Clint's for a bit, he needed a hand with repairing a book-shelf, I'll be back in about five minutes," With that Bucky hung up and enjoyed a nice and peaceful walk back to Steve's house.

\-----------

"I'm back," Bucky called as he let himself into the building, dumping shopping onto the kitchen table and gently putting the cardboard box down.

Steve entered the kitchen. "There you are Buck! I looked for you forever, I was worried that something had happened,"

"I'm fine Steve, just visited Clint's house for a bit,"

"At the Tower?"

Bucky shook his head. "No, his apartment, it's just around the corner from here, a few blocks away,"

Steve looked somewhat surprised. "Oh, I didn't realise he had another house,"

Bucky just hummed and pulled out the milk from the bag and put it into the fridge. 

"What's this?" Steve asked from behind him.

Bucky turned around and saw that Steve had lifted the lid of the cardboard box and was looking at its contents.

"A cat,"

"I know, but why do you have a cat?" Steve looked confused.

"Clint,"

"Ah," Steve nodded. "So Buck, what did you get up to at Clint's house?"  
\----------------------------------------

A few hours later as Bucky lay in bed, he couldn't ignore the small feeling that he had forgotten something. When he remembered what it was, he scrambled out of bed and reached for his phone. He quickly found Clint's number, under; The BEST Marksman in the World, and a small arrow emoji beside it.

Bucky smiled and typed in a message.

B: Hey Clint its Bucky

He was surprised when a few minutes later he recieved a reply.

C:Bucky!!!! :)

C: How are you???

C: How is the cat????

Bucky smiled.

B: Good, and good, I gave her some food and stuff, she's hiding in the bathroom at the moment, and she doesn't like Steve very much...

C: XD

C: Awesome!

C: Thats good then

C:NOt that she doesn't like Steve, 

C:Just that she's good

C: And that your good too

B: Goodnight Clint

C: Goodnight Bucky!! <3


End file.
